


meet you in the back under exit lights

by kaleidoscopeminds



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Bars and Pubs, Drug Use, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Like so much flirting, M/M, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, alex gaskarth is in this if you squint, can it be slow burn if its only 17k?, flanter one might say, i do not know enough about the music industry to have written this, indie music journalist calum hood, indie songwriter luke hemmings, it deserves a tag that's all they do in this, its in London again i'm sorry, its just referenced though, rated M for alcohol/drug use and sexual references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:47:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29387937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleidoscopeminds/pseuds/kaleidoscopeminds
Summary: “Mate, you do know what our job is right?” he asks amusedly. “You’re a writer at an indie music magazine. Just in case you hadn’t realised.”Calum rolls his eyes at Ashton.“I know,” he says grumpily. “But if Alex makes me interview another one of these boring-as-fuck sad boy singer-songwriters I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”The journalist Calum/musician Luke AU no one asked for
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood
Comments: 23
Kudos: 67





	meet you in the back under exit lights

**Author's Note:**

> hello again! welcome to my latest child/labour of love! so i don't know if you were all aware but mr luke hemmings posted [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/CK2OScBDpTZ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) this last week (was it last week? feels like another time) and we all collectively lost our fucking minds and SO this little idea that i'd been stewing on for a while started to take shape and again i powered through and wrote it in a week
> 
> thanks go to bella for being the lovely encouraging person she is and cheering this concept on at the beginning and everyone else in the club listening to me lose my mind over this last night, i hope it's worth it!
> 
> title from Violet by Sea Girls

_felt so harmless_

_goddamn charmless_

_I got you a drink of a whisky and coke_

_forgot my lines every time we spoke_

_I was joking_

_outside smoking_

**⭑*•⊱━━✩━━⊰•*⭑**

“I’ve fucking had it, Ash,” Calum groans as he reads the email that’s just popped into his inbox. “Another fucking indie songwriter?”

Ashton looks up from his own laptop at the desk next to him.

“Mate, you do know what our job is right?” he asks amusedly. “You’re a writer at an indie music magazine. Just in case you hadn’t realised.”

Calum rolls his eyes at Ashton.

“I know,” he says grumpily. “But if Alex makes me interview another one of these boring-as-fuck sad boy singer-songwriters I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

Ashton laughs. “He might be talented!”

“It doesn’t matter if he is or not,” Calum says. “He’ll be exactly the same as every other one I’ve interviewed. Inflated sense of self-importance thinly veiling an insecure musician who knows they’ll never make it.”

“Maybe don’t lead with that when you interview him,” Ashton says with a small smile, going back to his laptop. Calum’s aware he sounds like a prick, but he’s not. He’s just fed up with always getting the shitty boring stories because Alex still doesn’t trust him enough to take on a bigger artist interview, even though he’s been in the job for four years now. And there’s just so many of these wannabe indie guitar boys. 

“I don’t wanna,” Calum groans, spinning back and forth in his chair. “Why don’t you get any of these shitty ones?”

“Too busy creating video content, pal,” Ashton says. “I’m gonna be the one to save this magazine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Calum says. He makes fun of Ashton and his videos, but they’re actually performing fairly well on Youtube, even with the less well-known musicians who he’s managed to persuade into taking part. 

“Are you actually going to do your research this time?” Ashton asks.

“Why would I bother?” Calum says. He stretches and gets up so he can go and get a coffee. “I’ll just ask all the same bullshit I normally ask about his musical influences. I’ll barely have to speak.”

Ashton laughs again. “Get me one will you?” he asks, knowing Calum’s routine for his morning coffee and cigarette. “You never know, this one might surprise you.”

Calum shakes his head. “I can tell you one thing for free, I will not be surprised by—” he squints at the email again, “Luke Hemmings. And that’s a promise.” 

x

Later that week he finds himself stood out a stupidly hipster-looking cafe on Clapham High Street. He sighs and checks his emails on his phone again quickly to make sure he’s at the right place, before going in and approaching the counter to buy himself a coffee and scanning the shop quickly to see if he can spot Luke Hemmings. He realises that he really fucking should have done some research because he doesn’t actually know what Luke Hemmings looks like, and he panics for a second wondering whether he can do some surreptitious googling on his phone, but thankfully the cafe is almost entirely empty at 11 am on a Thursday.

He sees the only person he can possibly be looking for, at a table tucked into the corner, scribbling in a notebook. Calum wants to roll his eyes because _of course_ he’s got a fucking notebook instead of using a laptop like the rest of the twenty-first century, but he’s too distracted by the man himself. Because, okay, Calum might be slightly surprised by Luke Hemmings. 

He’s got slightly grown out bleached blonde curls softly falling into his eyes as he looks down at his mug, round-framed glasses behind which long eyelashes flutter onto his cheeks. In classic indie boy fashion he’s got scruff that’s just a bit too long but not long enough to call a beard, which should annoy Calum but instead just makes him appreciate Luke Hemmings’ jawline. And highlight just how pink his lips are. Fuck. Luke Hemmings might be like every indie singer-songwriter out there. But he also might just be the most beautiful one doing it. 

He grabs his coffee and takes a deep breath.

“Uh, Luke Hemmings?” Calum asks as he approaches the table. He notices that Luke is also drinking tea rather than coffee like a normal person, and not even normal tea come to that, but something that looks vaguely piss-coloured with a teabag in it. The ultimate cliché.

Luke looks up from his notebook and smiles at Calum, not with his teeth, but his lips spread and two dimples pop out on his cheeks as his eyes glint behind his glasses. Which also happen to be the most ridiculously piercing blue Calum’s ever seen. For fuck’s sake.

“Hi!” Luke says, stretching a hand over the table towards Calum. “I’m Luke, how are ya?”

Calum notices vaguely that his accent is slightly Australian (something that he’d probably have known if he’d spent any time at all doing his pre-work), and grabs Luke’s hand to give it a shake.

“Calum,” Calum says, returning the smile. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Where else would you sit?” Luke asks, lip twitching slightly.

Well, okay then. Fair, Calum supposes, pulling out the chair opposite Luke and sitting down.

“How are you?” Calum asks, might as well start with some useless pleasantries.

“My dog died this morning,” Luke says solemnly. Calum pauses, eyes widening as he flounders in the situation he’s suddenly been put in.

“Kidding,” Luke says after a second of watching Calum panic. He bites his lip slightly. “Sorry, awkward situation. A terrible joke is my knee-jerk reaction.” 

Calum exhales through his nose. Is this guy okay?

“That’s your idea of a joke?” he asks.

Luke snorts. “I guess so.” He shakes his head. “For transparency, my dog is completely fine as far as I know.”

“Well, for transparency, so is mine,” Calum says, barely resisting an eye-roll.

Luke’s eyes light up. “What’s your dog called? What breed are they?” 

“He’s called Duke,” Calum says slowly, not sure why he’s humouring this man. “Part corgi, part old man.”

Luke beams. “Mine’s called Petunia.” Before Calum knows it he’s got a phone thrust in his face showing a pouting Luke cuddling a massive dog. He’s cute, Calum will give him that, and the photo is even cuter. What was happening here? And why is he pulling out his own phone to show Duke on his own lock screen?

Luke makes a delighted noise before putting his phone back in his pocket. “She lives with my mum at the moment in Australia, but when I’m a bit more permanent I’m bringing her with me.” He smiles and blinks at Calum expectantly, and Calum starts, remembering why he’s there. He shakes his head to get himself back into interviewing musician mode and takes another deep breath. Maybe he should think about breathing less.

“I’m just gonna ask you a few questions, mind if I record on my phone?” Calum asks.

“No, go ahead, mate,” Luke says, and Calum smiles a little at the odd Australian twang coming out.

“Okay so, Luke, do you want to start by describing your music style?” Calum asks after starting the recording.

“Sad boy with a guitar,” Luke says promptly. 

This startles a laugh out of Calum and Luke grins a little in return.

“Can you elaborate?” Calum says, barely hiding his own smile at Luke’s assessment.

“Think of every white boy with a guitar and heaps of feelings you’ve ever heard. Except sadder,” Luke continues.

Calum snorts. “Are you sure you want me to write this in, mate?” 

Luke laughs out loud then, and Calum is slightly distracted by the way his mouth opens wide and his nose scrunches up as he tips his head back. 

“Look, I know my music is sad boy music,” He says shrugging. “I know that’s how it will be taken. But it doesn’t mean it’s not good and it doesn’t mean it’s not worth listening to.”

Calum frowns slightly. 

“Don’t you want to have control over how you’re perceived?” Calum’s aware that he might be going a bit deep for what is technically his second question, but he’s actually intrigued by Luke’s frankness. 

“But no musician does,” Luke says with a wry smile. “You can present yourself how you want, but how you’re perceived will always lie with the audience. I fit nicely into the sad indie boy box. So that’s where I’ll be.”

He shrugs and takes a sip of tea.

“So where does your inspiration for writing come from?” Calum asks, getting back on his normal slew of questions.

“My inability to maintain an adult relationship due to only being able to express myself through songwriting,” Luke says with a straight face.

“Honestly?” Calum says disbelievingly.

Luke flashes him a grin. “I’m not very good at interviews so when I get asked predictable questions I try to see what I can say to get a reaction out of the interviewer,” he says with a slightly guilty smile. “Your confusion is going to fuel me for the next week.”

Calum huffs and shakes his head. Luke Hemmings was a little more than he was expecting, with a little more personality than he was expecting. He’s intrigued, if a little bemused by the man sat opposite him, twirling a pen through his fingers and grinning at him. 

“How did you get into music?” Calum decides to continue.

“Playing guitar is the family business,” Luke says, not even bothering to hide his smile this time. 

“Do you want me to write this article or not?” Calum asks trying to look annoyed, but unable to stop the laugh that escapes when he says it.

“Here’s the thing,” Luke says, picking up his tea again. “I don’t want to be here, you don’t want to be here.” He raises his eyebrows as if to challenge Calum to refute him. He won’t. 

“We’ve both been told to come here for our greater good, I’m just trying to make this as enjoyable as possible.”

“Well I’ve actually got to fucking write this thing you know,” Calum says, still grinning.

“You knew what you were going to write about me before you sat down,” Luke says with a pointed look. Calum wants to protest at this attack on his integrity, but Luke’s not wrong, even if it does make him feel like a proper dick sat here with the man opposite him. 

“How about this,” Caum hedges. “You give me some genuine answers to some of my upcoming questions which include such classics as ‘what are your musical influences’ and ‘where do you want to be in five years’ and I’ll include some of your lies to spice the whole thing up.”

Luke grins at him, big and wide, and Calum tries to quell the idea that it kind of feels like looking directly into the sun, and grins back. 

He spends the next twenty minutes getting some serious answers out of Luke, and Calum can’t help but continue to be charmed by him, even when he gives the most predictable answers (it might help that when he does so he does it with a glimmer in his eyes and a barely repressed smirk). Luke is quick and genuinely funny, and he finds himself spending most of the interview laughing. 

“Well I’m playing at Koko on Saturday,” Luke says, tilting his head and surveying Calum after he presses stop on the recording and thanks Luke for his time. “If you do feel like experiencing the Luke Hemmings Sad Boy Experience in real life then maybe you should come along.”

“Are there tickets?” Calum says, he’s not sure why he’s tempted, but after speaking to Luke he does kind of want to see what he’s about.

“No, sold out,” Luke says. “But I can get you press entry if you’re considering it.”

“I’ll let you know?” Calum says.

“You’ve got my details,” Luke says with a smile.

Calum leaves the cafe and lights up a fag as he makes his way to the tube station. Luke Hemmings was not what he expected at all.

x

“Alex is on me to finish that Luke Hemmings article,” Calum says with a groan, throwing himself back onto his bed on Monday night, Ashton asking him what he was planning to do that evening. “Even though the deadline shouldn’t be until next weekend.”

“You genuinely didn’t do any research did you?” Ashton says, shaking his head at Calum disbelievingly.

“He’s blown up in the last week, man,” he says. “His EP has gone absolutely nuts.” 

“What?” Calum asks, confused. Duke hops up onto the bed next to Calum and nuzzles his nose underneath the edge of Calum’s hoodie.

“For fuck’s sake you’re a journalist at a music magazine,” Ashton says, rolling his eyes. “Read up on current music once in a while will you?” 

Ashton stomps out of the room as Calum pulls his laptop off the floor, absentmindedly scratching Duke’s head as he waits for it to start, and thinking about Luke Hemmings and the way that curl fell just behind his glasses. 

He shakes his head and opens his browser, typing Luke’s name into the search bar and sighing as it takes a ridiculous amount of time to load on his and Ashton’s shitty wifi.

And oh shit. There are a lot of articles. 

_Luke Hemmings: the newest music sensation_

_Is Luke Hemmings leading a new wave of singer-songwriters?_

_Sad acoustic gets a new lease of life in the form of heartthrob Luke Hemmings_

There are pages and pages of stuff just from the last few days, Luke Hemmings’ face blinking at him from hundreds of articles which get increasingly ridiculous the further he goes. 

Calum decides to start with Wikipedia, a reasonable place to begin when writing an article on someone you did nothing at all to research. He finds out that Luke is twenty-four, that he was born in Western Sydney, he’s got two older brothers and he’s seemingly been in London for the past couple of years. Calum keeps reading as Duke curls up on his lap and promptly falls asleep.

“Luke Hemmings still not interesting enough for you eh, bud?” he murmurs. Duke just snuffles in his sleep.

From what he can see Luke was just your standard musician before his sudden popularity, touring with a few well-known bands but mainly doing pub gigs, and he’d released his EP last year independently. He also finds quite a bit of stuff about Luke's ex-girlfriend, which speculation seems to have shown to be the inspiration behind most of the songs on Luke's EP.

He opens Spotify and finds Luke’s EP, thinking he should probably at least listen before he tries to write an article about him.

Luke’s music in some ways exactly what he was expecting, acoustic guitar and piano-led tracks with a suitably depressing set of symbolism driven lyrics, but Calum can’t deny that Luke’s voice is absolutely stunning. The quiet timbre of it when he sings soft and low and the strength in his falsetto is beautiful and gives such life to his music, that Calum finds himself listening all the way through the six songs without being distracted or checking his phone once. As it finishes, he clicks repeat.

Calum pulls out his phone and navigates to Luke’s Instagram page. His page is full of videos of himself playing—as expected—and Calum scrolls through a few before seeing that he’s got a story that he’s uploaded. He clicks on it and watches as Luke seems to be performing a dramatic rendition of ‘Don’t Look Back In Anger’ in his bathroom mirror with a towel on his head. Calum can’t help but laugh out loud when Luke spins around to zoom into the row of shampoo bottles he’s lined up on the edge of the bath like an audience. He taps follow on Luke’s account. 

He quickly accesses his voice memos through his laptop and opens a document. Then he pauses for a second. Shrugging at himself he goes into his work email to send an email to Luke’s management to request a press pass for Luke’s show on Saturday. 

Calum massages his temples as he presses play on the recording, letting Luke’s voice, soft with that Australian twang float through his earphones. He sighs again and starts typing.

x

_Sad Songs, Happy Man? The Unexpected Rise of Luke Hemmings._

“This is good, Calum,” Alex says a few days later when Calum awkwardly stands in front of his desk.“You always do a good job but _this,_ this is the kind of piece we’re after. What’s behind the exterior, what’s behind what they want everyone to see? Especially on these new artists that are about to explode. Nice work.”

“Thanks,” Calum says awkwardly, brushing a hand through the hair on the back of his head, feeling a bit weird about having this be the article that actually gets him some praise from Alex.

“So what was he like?” Alex asks. “As insufferable as you expected?”

“He was—” Calum pauses, thinking back to Luke’s smile, his soft hiccuping laugh and the way his eyes flashed with mirth when he was winding Calum up. “He was nice, actually.”

Alex gives him a funny look but doesn’t push it.

“We’ll put this out on Saturday, on the day of his show, to make the most of the buzz. Should probably get someone to review it, come to that.”

“I, uh, I’m already going,” Calum says awkwardly. “He offered me a pass, so I could just do it.”

Alex frowns slightly, giving Calum a calculating look. 

“Fine, you can go,” he says slowly. “But I hope you requested two passes because Ashton’s going with you.”

Calum nods and moves to escape Alex’s office.

“Don’t fuck the Australian heartthrob!” Alex calls as he leaves. Calum almost chokes on his own spit. 

**⭑*•⊱** **━━** **✩** **━━** **⊰•*⭑**

Calum’s slightly ashamed to admit that he’s spent the five days in between discovering Luke’s EP and his gig listening to it pretty much twenty-four hours a day. To start with he tried to just chalk it up to getting into Luke’s headspace to write a good article on him, but when it gets to several days after he’s submitted it and he’s still walking around most of the time with Luke Hemmings’ voice in his ears he knows he’s not fooling anyone. Least of all himself.

“What’s the deal with you and this indie boy then?” Ashton asks from his desk on Friday morning. 

“What do you mean?” Calum aims for nonchalant.

“Well you go to this interview determined to hate him, and by the time you’ve written the article you’re obsessed with him?” Ashton asks, raising his eyebrow.

“I’m not obsessed with him,” Calum scoffs, taking a large sip of coffee.

“You’ve listened to his EP about sixty times,” Ashton says flatly.

“You don’t know that,” Calum says.

“I follow you on Spotify Cal,” Ashton says, leaning back in his chair and rolling his eyes. “As do most of this company come to think of it so they all know that too.”

Calum huffs and throws a paperclip at Ashton.

“I don’t know,” Calum says honestly, putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what it is about him.”

“The article was good,” Ashton says.

“How have you read it? I thought it was coming out tomorrow?”

“Alex must have changed his mind.” Ashton shrugs. “It’s really good though Cal, honestly. You make him sound funny and interesting and multifaceted.”

“That’s because he is,” Calum mumbles into his hands. There’s a pause and Calum can’t look up at Ashton when he knows he’s surveying Calum intently. 

“Ah. I see what’s happening here,” Ashton says. “You fancy the indie boy.”

“Don’t say fancy for fuck’s sake,” Calum says. “And I don’t.”

“Well, you’re turning into his number one fan as we speak.” Ashton smirks. “You’ll have a poster up before the end of the weekend. A T-shirt with his face on maybe?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Calum groans.

He hears Ashton reply but isn’t listening because he’s distracted by the email that’s just appeared in his unread. Which appears to have actually come from Luke Hemmings and not just his management.

_Calum,_

_Heard you were still hunting for a press pass, I’m flattered you’re so eager to see me again. Find attached! Get ready to feel Sad up-close and personal._

_Luke_

_P.S. The article was a ripper, you actually made me sound somewhat engaging. How will I ever repay you?_

Calum makes a disbelieving noise in his throat as he reads the email. Was Luke? Flirting with him? Surely not. He realises with a start that Ashton is standing reading over his shoulder, clearly having enough of being ignored and coming over to see what had caught Calum’s interest.

“Holy fuck.” Ashton sniggers in Calum’s ear. “Indie boy sounds like he fancies _you_. What the fuck?”

Calum makes an outraged noise. “You can’t just read my emails, Ashton,” he blusters, trying to click off it but only succeeding in popping the email out even bigger onto his second monitor. 

Ashton laughs loudly as he ambles back to his desk. “You know you can’t fuck the indie boy right? You just wrote an article on him, I think that’s fairly frowned upon.”

“I don’t want to fuck him,” Calum says, but his voice sounds weak even to his own ears. “I just want to see him perform. And someone’s got to review the gig for the magazine.”

Ashton just continues to laugh. “You’re so fucking gone for him mate, and you’ve only met him once. I’m almost sorry I won’t be there to witness the car crash that’s inevitably about to happen.”

“Oh haven’t you heard?” Calum asks grimly. “Alex has said you’re coming with me.” 

x

“Why the fuck am I _here_?” Ashton groans, for maybe the sixth time since they’d got to Koko. “I work with you, I live with you, you’d think I’d be able to spend Saturday night with my girlfriend and not you.”

“If I had it my way, you wouldn’t be here either,” Calum says, rolling his eyes before taking a sip of his pint and casting his eyes around the venue. They’re stood on the lower level close to the back and the merch table, keeping out of the way of the crush of teens in front of them who sounds like they’re about to explode with excitement even before Luke comes on stage. 

Calum shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot, out of the Venn diagram that consists of; people at Luke Hemming’s gig, people that are a gender other than woman and people over the age of twenty, he and Ashton exist in a very tiny central intersection. It doesn’t help that the man on the merch table is giving Calum a considering look up and down every now and again which makes him want to explain why in fact he’s there in the first place. 

“I’m going to get another drink,” Ashton says. “Want anything?”

Calum isn't listening, still flicking looks at the man on the merch table.

“Calum, earth to Calum,” Ashton says, flicking Calum in the head.

“Ow, fuck,” Calum says and notices merch table man’s eyes flash with recognition at the sound of Calum’s name. “Yeah, I’ll have another beer please.”

As Ashton heads off, Calum scooches a bit closer to the merch table, as the man now is looking at him with renewed interest.

“Hi,” Calum says.

“Hello,” merch table man says, sweeping his blonde fringe out of his eyes and giving Calum a small smile. “You wouldn’t happen to be Calum who writes for _fact_ would you?”

Calum looks at him suspiciously. “Who’s asking?”

The man laughs. “I’m Michael, Luke’s friend, techie, and general dogsbody.”

“Calum, but you already knew that,” Calum says, reaching his hand over the table to shake Michael’s. Michael has the familiar Australian twang that Calum associates with Luke, and wonders how long the two have known each other.

“Pleased to meet the guy Luke won’t shut up about,” Michael says with a smirk. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Calum can’t hold back the grin that comes to his face when he hears that Luke has been talking about him. Makes him feel less weird about listening to his EP over fifty times. 

“Nice article by the way,” Michael continues, adjusting the snapback on his head. “Honestly there’s some utter shite written about him but yours was pretty good.”

“I will take that as a glowing recommendation from one of his friends,” Calum says.

“I’ve known him since he was twelve so you should,” Michael says.

“I told you you were a superfan.” Calum hears Ashton’s voice next to his ear. “First non-stop EP streaming, now a T-shirt with his face on.”

Calum flushes as he takes his pint off Ashton, and watches Michael’s eyebrows disappear underneath his fringe. 

“Fuck off,” he hisses to Ashton. “Ashton, this is Michael, Luke’s friend. Michael, this is Ashton. I work with him at _fact_.”

“Nice to meet you mate,” Ashton says, shaking Michael’s hand and flashing him a genial smile. “This is a bit nuts then eh?” He gestures at the crowd that’s getting increasingly loud in volume.

“You’re telling me,” Michael says with a rueful smile. “A couple of months ago I was trying to flog these in bars Luke was playing at in an attempt to get enough money to pay our rent. Now I have someone to actually man this stand so I can sound tech properly.”

As if they heard Michael, a man appears at the table and Michael moves out of his way, throwing him a grateful smile as he comes round the front of the table. 

“I’ll see you boys later,” he says to Ashton and Calum, giving them a salute and turning away. A second later he turns back, considering the two of them for a moment.

“We’re going for drinks at Lockside after, a bit of a celebration. You two should come,” Michael says.

“Oh— uh, I don’t know, we wouldn’t want to intrude,” Calum starts.

“Not at all mate, come along,” Michael insists. “I know Luke would be stoked to see you there.”

With another smirk, Michael turns away and heads to the sound booth.

“Interesting development,” Ashton says quietly. 

Calum steps on his foot. 

Luke’s gig is good. If Calum thought his voice was good on his EP, it’s nothing to how the man sounds live, voice raw and beautiful as he stands alone on stage, strumming his guitar. If Calum concentrates hard enough on blocking out the teen screaming, he’s almost taken to another place listening to Luke, watching him in the lights on the stage, hair glowing and glasses reflecting. He’s captivating. It also doesn't help that even though Luke’s still wearing a casual band T-shirt, he’s got it tucked into some ridiculous shiny leather trousers paired with some heeled ankle boots, and Calum literally cannot take his eyes off him. 

“I need a cigarette,” Calum mumbles to Ashton in a gap between songs when Luke sips from a pint glass on stage and flashes a grin to the shrieking audience.

“You’re gonna fuck the indie songwriter aren’t you?” Ashton asks. 

Calum scoffs. “He might not even be into guys.”

“In those trousers? Sure thing,” Ashton says, rolling his eyes.

"He had a girlfriend before," Calum protests, but Ashton just gives him a look over the rim of his cup. “So these drinks later…” 

“Oh we’re going,” Ashton says. “I might have complained about being here, but I wouldn’t miss you trying to pull indie songwriter for the world.”

“I’m not going to try to pull him,” Calum huffs. “I just want to talk to him.”

“Okay, man,” Ashton says patronisingly. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Calum sighs. Ashton’s not wrong. Of course he wants to fuck Luke Hemmings, who doesn’t? He’s fucking gorgeous and talented (and his arse in those trousers…) but he was also genuinely intrigued by him. The hour they’d spent together during Calum’s interview had just sparked _something_ and he couldn't stop thinking about him. He knows it’s a bad idea to get involved with the talent, you don’t want to be known for _that_ in the press world, and it’s something he’s managed to avoid so far, but Luke Hemmings makes him want _that_ a little more than he should. 

x

Luke’s crew are an absolute riot. It might be something to do with them being almost entirely Aussies, but they are friendly and loud and drag Calum and Ashton into their antics without question or preamble. Calum hasn’t even managed to speak to Luke yet, too busy getting drinks bought for him, the shit ripped into him for his job or challenged to a drinking match which he steadily refuses, not wanting to make a twat out of himself as Luke watches him with a small smile.

After a while, he sees Luke head over to the bar and he manages to extricate himself from the conversation he’s in, leaving Ashton to defend English footie to Luke’s guitar tech and follows Luke over to the bar. 

“Wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,” Luke says with a small smile as Calum leans up against the bar next to him.

“Hm, well, somebody told me that someone might have mentioned me a few times,” Calum tails off, watching Luke blush and feeling smug about it.

“Well, someone might have told me that I might have a new number one fan,” Luke returns, pink lips turning up into a grin and dimple visible beneath his scruff. 

Calum coughs embarrassedly and flags down the barman to order him and Luke a drink.

“So our mates are fucking gossips, yeah?” Calum says, shaking his head.

“Absolutely,” Luke says, grabbing his pint from the bar. 

“I’m gonna go for a smoke,” Calum says, indicating the terrace outside. “Want to come?”

“And breathe in your fumes?” Luke asks with a grin, then pauses. “Alright then.”

Calum lights up outside, careful to hold the cig away from Luke. “I’m guessing you’re not after one then?” 

Luke just rolls his eyes.“No you can keep your durry. Didn’t have you down as a smoker,” he muses, leaning his elbows on the railing around the terrace. Calum tries not to watch the way his shoulders move across the expanse of his back. “Suppose it goes with your alternative aesthetic.”

Luke indicates Calum’s leather jacket, Docs and buzzed head.

“You don’t know me,” Calum teases, taking a drag and blowing smoke into the air.

Luke turns and gives Calum a long look up and down which makes Calum want to shiver a bit, his eyes dragging back up to meet Calum’s. Okay, so he might be into guys.

“I suppose I don’t,” Luke says after a long pause. 

“To be fair, this wasn’t quite what I had in mind for an after-party of yours either,” Calum says, gesturing inside at the group of people clustered around a few tables.

“What did you expect?” Luke cocks his head. “Surprised that none of us are doing lines off of someone’s tits by now?”

Calum almost chokes on his lungful of smoke. Luke consistently surprises him and tonight is no different, watching the satisfied smirk come to his face at shocking Calum.

“Not quite,” Calum says after he’s recovered. “I thought we’d all be sitting around drinking green tea as you play us your favourite vinyl.” 

Luke laughs, big and loud with a squeak escaping him, and Calum fucking loves the sound, as much as he loves Luke’s voice itself.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Calum just grins at him and Luke smiles back.

“What did you think then?” Luke asks, sipping his drink. “Sad enough for you?”

“You’ll have to wait for the review, won’t you?” Calum says with a wink. 

“Oh, you’re reviewing it are you?” Luke teases. “I thought you just wanted to come and see me.”

“I’m here for work purposes only,” Calum says seriously.

Luke pouts a little but there’s a glimmering look in his eyes. “That’s a shame,” he says quietly and reaches out to just ghost his fingers over the collar of Calum’s shirt. 

Calum drops his fag end and grinds the heel of his boot over it, stepping forward slightly into Luke’s space.

“Is it?” he asks, hand coming up to rest lightly on Luke’s hip. Calum looks at Luke, his eyes tracking the way his eyelashes flutter as he blinks slowly, and his teeth nibble at his bottom lip, almost as a tic that he’s always done. The air is thick between them despite the cool air, and Calum can feel the warmth of Luke under his hand and the hard line of muscle.

“Oh, there you are, get the fuck back in here, dickhead,” Michael’s voice bursts through the door. Luke almost reluctantly steps back from Calum with a small smile.

“Hi, Mikey,” Luke says. 

“Oh,” Michael says, looking at Calum and Luke, with a growing smile. “ _Please_ don’t let me interrupt.”

He backs through the door, barely repressing a round of giggles.

“I should get back inside,” Luke says with a smile, reaching out to brush Calum’s shoulder again. “Maybe see you around again soon, Calum.”

“Maybe you will,” Calum says, returning the smile.

Luke grins at him, then slips back through the doors. Calum takes a deep breath and lights another cigarette. Luke Hemmings might just turn him into a full-time smoker. 

x

He gets another email from Luke’s personal address a week or two later.

_4 out of 5 stars? Are you joking? What did I need to do to get 5?_

Calum types out a response and sends it without thinking.

_Wouldn’t you like to know?_

He gets a reply almost instantaneously.

_Fingers crossed I do see you again, Calum Hood. I’ll show you I’m worth 5 stars._

Calum’s fingers twitch towards the box of cigarettes in his pocket as he reads Luke’s email. This man was going to be the death of him. 

**⭑*•⊱** **━━** **✩** **━━** **⊰•*⭑**

A few weeks later Luke announces a tour which sells out in minutes, and Calum has to write another article on him being the first person to sell out an arena tour based only on an independently recorded EP.

He complains about it to Alex but also knows he would hate if anyone else was asked to write it. He tries not to delve too deeply as to why he feels weirdly possessive over this man he’s met twice. He also kind of hopes that the article might cause Luke to reach out again, they haven’t spoken since Calum’s review a couple of weeks ago and Calum’s getting antsy, finding it impossible to think about much else than Luke Hemmings; the way he felt underneath his hand and the way he chewed on his lip. 

Sure enough, the day after the article goes out, he gets another email from Luke.

_Glad to see you’re still my number 1 fan xox_

Calum replies immediately, abandoning the other interview he’s laboriously trying to type up, Luke is definitely more interesting.

_Surprised you even remember who I am, big shot_

Calum tries to focus back on his article, ignoring the way his heart is thrumming against the inside of his chest, his knee jiggling. It takes an hour or so, and Calum loses some hope that Luke will actually respond, but when he does it's absolutely worth it.

_You’re difficult to forget Calum_

x

Calum gets called into Alex’s office, and he’s never sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

“Calum, I want you to do the NME awards this year,” Alex says, surveying Calum over his monitor. 

“What? Are you sure?” Calum asks

“I think the response you were looking for is ‘I would love to Alex, thanks for the opportunity’,” Alex says ruefully, raising his eyebrows at Calum. “Try again?”

“I would love to Alex, thanks for the opportunity,” Calum parrots back, with a guilty smile. “But also, are you sure?”

Alex laughs. “Yes, you’re smashing it at the moment, all your articles are performing really well on the site. I want to see you take on something else, and Ashton is busy doing all the video content for the lead up so I’ll need someone else to do the evening.”

“I'll do it,” Calum says, trying to sound more confident than he feels.

“Good, it wasn’t an option, you’re already on the list,” Alex says, focussing back on his computer. “Hope you’ve got a suit.”

Calum realises that that’s him being dismissed, and resists rolling his eyes as he leaves the room.

x

“This is fucking stupid,” Calum grumbles, adjusting his shirt. “Why can’t I just wear my normal jacket?”

“You can’t wear your leather jacket to an awards ceremony,” Ashton says from where he’s lying down on Calum’s bed.

“People where random shit to the NMEs, its not the fucking Oscars,” Calum protests.

“Yeah people who are actually in bands, Cal, not press attendees,” Ashton says. “You can't get away with turning up and looking alternative. You’ve already got a shaved head and tattoos, tone it back a little”

“How about I wear the trousers and jacket, but I just wear the white tank top underneath instead of this fucking thing,” Calum says, tugging on the collar.

“Put it on, let me see,” Ashton directs. 

Calum strips his shirt off just leaving his undershirt on and pulls the jacket back on, turning to face Ashton, pushing his hand through his hair, his buzz cut just growing out slightly. 

“Okay, I think you can get away with it, just about,” Ashton says, considering. Calum sighs in relief.

“You look good, mate, let’s hope indie songwriter is there eh?” Ashton says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Calum fumbles his watch as he’s trying to put it on, whipping around to look at Ashton. “What?”

“Well he probably will be, won’t he? Pretty sure he’s still in London,” Ashton says. He looks at Calum. “You good Cal?”

“Yeah,” Calum says, slipping a box of cigs into his pocket. “I’m fucking great.”

“You’re smoking again a fair bit,” Ashton observes, eyes narrowing.

“I’m going now,” Calum says loudly as he leaves the room.

Calum could really do without the prospect of potentially bumping into Luke Hemmings, as if he wasn’t under enough pressure to do a good job as it is.

He smokes all the way to the tube station and then smokes all the way to the venue on the other side, trying and failing not to think about seeing Luke or you know, fucking up his job. He takes a few minutes outside, breathing the cold air deeply and chewing gum so he doesn’t smell like an ashtray when he walks in, surreptitiously spraying some aftershave on his neck and over his jacket.

He gets his press pass and heads in, passing through the throngs of photographers and reporters on the carpet. Luckily he’s not expected to do any interviews, just cover the event in general, as Ashton has picked up many of the smaller artists nominated in their coverage leading up to tonight. Slipping into the press area he finds the bar straight away and gets himself a drink, thinking about how he’s going to word his article so it doesn’t sound like every other fucking thing on the internet tomorrow. 

He’s worked his way through a couple of whiskeys and made some excruciating small talk with some of the other journalists before they’re ushered to the very back of Brixton Academy, crushed into the standing space at the back of the room, overlooking the tables as the artists start to come in.

Calum always finds people watching incredibly gratifying, especially on a night like tonight. He catalogues the way the artists interact, who’s clearly friends with who and who’s trying to avoid each other, who’s clearly already drunk and who’s coked-up past the point of knowing what’s going on. The room fills up steadily with people and noise as people try to find their seats, and he’s watching a member of someone’s entourage trying to get past a decidedly much more famous person’s security amusedly, when a mop of blonde curls catch his eye.

His eyes swivel to see Luke Hemmings picking through to his seat with a couple of people following him, including Michael. 

His stomach does a bit of a weird thing watching Luke, clad in extremely well-fitting grey trousers and a teal satin shirt, laugh at something Michael says as he sits down, which Calum can’t just attribute to the Jim Beam’s he’s consumed on an empty stomach. Luke’s scruff is trimmed down and his hair is touched up, but it’s still curling onto his forehead and he’s still got those fucking glasses on. Calum didn’t know he had a thing for glasses but Luke Hemmings continues to ruin most of his preconceptions.

He watches Luke cast his eyes around the room and suppresses the urge to hide behind the person next to him. It’s obvious the moment that Luke spots him, his lips spreading into a smile and his eyes glimmering behind his glasses. Calum raises his eyebrows and gives him a mini salute with two of his fingers, and he sees rather than hears Luke laugh, the way his nose scrunches up and he bites his lip. Fuck he’s still fucking gorgeous. Calum throws him a wink and he swears he sees Luke blush a bit, ducking his head slightly before he turns back around to speak to Michael. 

Calum tries really hard not to spend the whole first half of the awards looking at the back of Luke’s head but he absolutely does not succeed. Luke draws his attention anytime Calum actually tries to look at the stage, laughing at something Michael’s said to him or speaking into the ear of the person on his other side. There’s a break after the first half and Calum is itching to go outside and blow through the rest of his box of fags when Luke turns to him and gestures at the bar behind Calum. Calum raises his eyebrows questioningly as he points his thumb over his shoulder and Luke nods slightly, and Calum watches Luke say something to Michael before getting up and heading towards him. Calum weaves his way through the rest of the press into the space at the back of the room, where there’s already a crowd gathering around the bar.

“Hi there,” Calum says with a grin when Luke gets near enough to hear him.

“Hiya,” Luke says, returning the grin, poking his tongue between his teeth slightly.

“Wanna head to the upstairs one?” Calum asks, surveying the queue for the bar they’re standing next to.

Luke nods and they pass through the doors at the back into the cool air of the entrance space.

“Can’t you get drinks delivered to your table, Mr Famous?” Calum asks with a smirk as they head up the stairs to the much quieter bars on the first floor.

“Mm, probably,” Luke says, then turns to look at Calum. “But then how would I say hi to you?”

“That’s fair enough.” Calum laughs. 

“What are you drinking?” Luke asks as they get to the front of the bar. 

“Jim Beam,” Calm says and Luke nods as he orders Caum’s drink and a Jose Cuervo over ice for himself.

“Oh, tequila?” Calum teases as they get their drinks and go and stand next to the wall for a bit, enjoying the quiet. “Thought you’d go for a lovely tea.”

“You’re never going to let that go are you,” Luke huffs, sipping his drink. 

“Absolutely not,” Calum says. He lets his eyes roam over Luke, his shoulders looking particularly broad in the shirt he's got on, open by several buttons and a pendant dropping onto his chest.

“See something you like?” Luke smirks, catching Calum’s eyes again.

“You scrub up pretty well for a scruffy indie boy,” Calum says, not even bothering to look embarrassed at having been caught blatantly staring at Luke.

“Oh, cheers mate,” Luke says with a laugh. “You’re not so bad yourself. Tank top and suit jacket? Very nice.”

Calum shakes his head at how quickly they’ve fallen back into relentless flirting.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight,” Luke says. “Bit of a treat.”

Calum laughs. “Nice to see you too, Luke,” he says. “Better get used to this kind of thing, next year it’ll be you scooping up all the awards.”

Luke shakes his head. “This is all so fucking crazy,” he says. “I’m just a sad boy with a guitar.”

“Who’s selling out arenas in eighteen minutes,” Calum points out.

Luke exhales noisily and pushes a hand through his hair. “Honestly on nights like tonight I’m like actually, what the fuck am I doing here?” 

Calum pauses for a second to look at Luke as he rests his head on the wall, looking at the ceiling. He lets his eyes track up the line of his throat and over his perfect side profile.

“I don’t know, I think you fit in okay,” Calum says, and he can’t resist reaching out and fixing Luke’s collar that’s curled up on itself.

“Oh yeah?” Luke turns his head to look at Calum. “Bit of a pretentious cunt with all the other pretentious cunts?”

Calum snorts then pauses to look at Luke properly.

“Not quite,” he says quietly. “But more talent than most of the pretentious cunts put together.”

He likes the way that makes Luke blush. “Fuck off.”

“Sorry, I’m your number one fan, remember?” Calum says with a smirk.

"You've really changed your tune from our first meeting, haven't you?" Luke shakes his head, chewing on his lip slightly, but a small pleased smile comes to his face.

“Why do you do that?” Calum says without thinking.

“What?” 

“You chew on your lip,” Calum says, too late to pretend he hasn’t been watching Luke intently.

“Oh,” Luke says, laughing slightly. “Used to have a lip ring, it’s a habit I can’t quite get rid of.”

“A lip ring?” Calum asks, trying to reconcile the image of the man in front of him with one with a ring going through his lower lip.

“I know,” Luke says, rolling his eyes. “I was trying to be punk at the time, it’s better if we don’t talk about it.”

“That’s hot,” Calum says without thinking and Luke laughs loudly.

“I was eighteen at the time, don’t be a fucking creep.”

“I’m not!” Calum protests. “I’m just saying eighteen-year-old me would have found eighteen-year-old you fit, probably.

“What about twenty-four-year-old me and twenty-whatever-year-old you?” Luke asks with a smirk.

“Five,” Calum says and then pauses. “And the jury's still out.” 

“I’ll wait for the verdict,” Luke says quietly, stepping slightly closer to Calum and brushing his fingers over where Calum knows one of his tattoos are peeking out from his undershirt, across his collarbone and around his shoulder. Calum moves forward slightly and feels Luke’s breath over his face.

 _“Ladies and gentlemen if you’d like to retake your seats, the second half of this evening’s programme will commence shortly_ ”

Calum laughs and this time he’s the one to step away as Luke shakes his head ruefully at him.

“Better get back, Mr Famous,” Calum says with a grin.

Luke starts back towards the stairs before stopping to turn and look at Calum.

“I’m back in Australia for a few weeks after tonight, but I’ll be in London to record in April,” Luke says slowly, looking at Calum intently. “Maybe see you around?”

“Maybe you will,” Calum says, and Luke grins at him before going back down the stairs. Calum tries really hard to not just stare at his arse as he leaves (unsuccessfully).

Calum’s fingers wrap around his lighter in his pocket tightly. He really wishes he still had time to go outside. 

x

After Calum’s article gets published, he’s treated to another emailed response from Luke.

_I can’t believe you wrote an article about the whole awards and you didn’t even mention me once_

_Careful Mr Famous, I think fame’s going to your head_

_Don’t act like I wasn’t your favourite part of the night_

_Can neither confirm nor deny_

**⭑*•⊱** **━━** **✩** **━━** **⊰•*⭑**

Calum’s NME write-up gives Alex enough confidence in Calum to start letting him have some of the bigger jobs that are usually reserved for the more senior staff. Honestly, Calum pulled the whole article out of his arse, he couldn’t concentrate on anything after speaking to Luke (or before speaking to Luke), too busy looking at the back of his head (and the back of his shoulders). He writes up a piece with the main winners and then uses a few of the more harmless observations he made to embellish, and apparently, that gives the piece “texture”. Whatever the fuck that means, Alex. 

Calum can’t complain though, as the stuff he gets assigned now is way more interesting than what he was wading through a few months ago, and he’s done some interviews with some much more high profile musicians which makes him feel like he might actually be starting to get somewhere in his career. The only downside to his current contentment is now that Luke’s in Australia, he knows there’s no possibility of seeing him again anytime soon. 

“So you’re telling me,” Ashton says slowly in the pub one Friday night. “You’ve seen this man three times, you’ve aggressively flirted with him each time, and the only way you communicate is through _email_? Why don’t you have his number yet?”

Calum glares at Ashton as he takes a sip of his pint.

“It’s not like that,” he says.

“It’s not like what?” Ashton asks bewildered. “Do you want to fuck Luke Hemmings or not?”

“Well, obviously,” Calum murmurs, he’s past the point of denial by now. “But he’s in Australia right now.”

“Okay,” Ashton says, giving him a funny look. “And do you have plans to see him when he’s back?

“He said he’d see me around,” Calum says into his pint glass.

“Oh fucking hell, this is ridiculous,” Ashton rolls his eyes so hard that Calum’s surprised they stay in his head. 

Calum shrugs. “It’s kind of fun.”

“I don’t understand you at all, man.”

Calum gets it, Ashton was the world's most straightforward human, anything he thinks he says, no messing. Calum’s aware that his stupid flirting game with Luke was exactly that; stupid, but there’s something about it that makes his skin feel hot and his blood run a little faster, in a way he’s not sure he can explain to Ashton successfully. He shrugs at Ashton and buys him another drink, and the two of them get stupidly drunk in the pub, leaving far later than they ever originally intended. 

Later that night once he and Ashton have stumbled home, he opens Instagram to see a video from Luke clearly filmed back in Australia, on a balcony overlooking the sea. Luke’s aglow in sunlight as he softly strums his guitar, and Calum’s breath catches a little. Calum feels his heart do a weird thing as Luke looks up at the camera, squinting through his glasses and smiling slightly before looking back at the fret of his guitar. 

Calum’s definitely had a beer too many, and he’ll blame that on the reason why he sends Luke a DM.

_Your guitar’s fucking filthy man, you’d think you might want to clean your most prized possession after you’ve put your sticky fingers all over it_

Calum locks his phone and rolls over, passing out immediately.

He wakes up to a follow from Luke and a response to his DM and feels a certain amount of shame reading the message he sent last night, but can’t bring himself to regret it when he sees Luke has actually replied.

_What are you doing watching videos of me at 2am you fucking weirdo_

_And I’ll put my fingers all over whatever i want thank you_

Calum laughs which only exacerbates his headache, but he drags himself into the shower with a smile on his face, flirting with Luke Hemmings was not going to be a London-only thing, and Calum couldn’t be smugger about it if he tried. 

There’s something satisfying and exciting about speaking to Luke through Instagram DMs. Ashton rolls his eyes at Calum that the two of them _still_ haven’t exchanged numbers, but there’s something about their dynamic which works, as ridiculous as it sounds. 

Calum starts regularly replying to Luke’s stories of him in Australia with his family, writing or with his dog Petunia, someone in particular he’s become very familiar with through Luke’s Instagram. Luke responds anytime Calum posts too, even when it's just an artsy shot of some graffiti (mainly it seems so Luke can make fun of him for it). It gets to a point that Calum suspects Luke posts stuff on his story just to get a response from Calum (and Calum knows that he posts things just to get a rise out of Luke).

He wakes up one morning to a selfie video of Luke shirtless on the beach, pushing the curls out off his forehead and slowly chewing his lip slightly before grinning with the caption “ _using the ocean for songwriting inspo_ ”, but as if anyone is reading the caption when Luke’s chest and shoulders are right there, looking fucking broad as fuck with the sun bathing him in a glow and bouncing off his blonde curls. Calum groans and throws his head back on the pillow, before tapping reply and typing out a message (after he’s watched the video another ten times). 

_You’ve sent your followers into a frenzy, how careless of you_

He’s hoping to catch Luke before he goes to bed, he usually does first thing in the morning, that and late at night being the only time he gets live responses from Luke because of the time difference. Sure enough, by the time he’s gotten out the shower, Luke’s replied to him. 

_Only one follower I care about sending into a frenzy though ;)_

Calum laughs as he starts to get dressed, shaking his head at the fucking winky face. He sends Luke another message as he walks to the tube to get him into work.

_Oh really? Who might that be?_

Calum doesn’t get the response until he’s come out of the tube station at Temple and his phone gets signal again.

_My number 1 fan_

Calum shakes his head and pockets his phone as he goes into the office. 

Later that week Calum might ask Ashton to come to the gym with him, and he might ask him to film him going through his routine so he can upload it to his story. It’s not unusual for Calum, he’s put his workouts on Instagram before, but it might have been a while since he’s done it. Not that he has a particular motivation to now or anything like that. Ashton grumbles and rolls his eyes at Calum the whole time, but Calum ignores him, reviewing the footage and hitting upload. 

He goes to bed with a smirk.

The next morning he’s treated to a few messages from Luke. 

_Fuck me_

_You’re such a little shit_

_This is new level_

Calum laughs with satisfaction.

x

The following Friday Ashton gives him a strange look as he gets into work that morning—he’d stayed at KayKay’s the night before so had gotten in before Calum—and it's not until Calum’s stripped off his jacket and sat at his desk and Ashton’s still looking at him that he replies.

“What?” he asks.

“Have you seen?” Ashton replies.

“Seen what?” Calum asks, booting up his laptop and plugging it into his monitor. 

“I’ll send you a link,” Ashton says uneasily, and Calum frowns. It’s not like Ashton to be so evasive.

He loads his emails and clicks on Ashton’s at the top of his inbox.

“This is a gossip site link, Ashton,” Calum says distastefully.

“I know, I know,” Ashton says, waving his hand. “Just look at it.”

Calum narrows his eyes but reluctantly clicks on the link. He’s faced with about twenty photos of Luke on the beach. With a woman. A small, pretty dark-haired woman who’s clutching at Luke’s arm and smiling up at him with a delighted look in her eyes. 

Calum reads the headline with an uncomfortable feeling swimming in his stomach. 

_Australian Indie Heartthrob Luke Hemmings Reconnects With Ex While on Break in Sydney_

Ah.

He looks up at Ashton and shrugs slightly. 

“You good, bro?” Ashton asks.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Calum says, clicking out of the website. And he is. Sure, he and Luke had a bit of a flirty thing going, but they weren’t anything and they never discussed that they would be. Luke can do whatever he wants. He massages his temples and sighs.

Ashton slides a coffee onto his desk and looks at him sympathetically.

“I think Alex wants to talk to you,” he says.

He smiles at Ashton gratefully, sipping the coffee. “About what?”

“No idea, he just mentioned it to me a few minutes before you got here.”

Calum heads towards Alex’s office, coffee cup in hand, and knocks.

“Come in!” 

Calum heads into the office and stands leaning against one of the chairs instead of sitting down.

“Ashton said you wanted to speak to me?” he asks.

“As our resident Luke Hemmings writer I was hoping you’d take this one,” Alex says, glancing up from his monitor.

“What one?” Calum says slowly, as he feels a sense of dread sink into his stomach.

Alex laughs. “About him being seen with his ex, what else?”

“I refuse to write about Luke Hemmings’ personal life, we’re not the Daily Mail,” Calum says stiffly.

“Is this about your integrity or is this about Luke Hemmings himself?” Alex asks, raising his eyebrows at Calum and looking at him properly.

“It's trashy and fucking gross,” Calum says. He feels anger start to simmer inside him, not just at the idea of Luke Hemmings getting back with his girlfriend, but that because he’s now some sort of celebrity it’s fair game to pick it apart for millions to see. 

“It's his ex, it's what all of his songs have been written about thus far. This is the kind of stuff we cover,” Alex says firmly. “Is this going to result in new songs, that kind of thing.” 

Calum doesn’t say anything, doesn’t trust himself to open his mouth as his fingers flex in his pocket.

“Come on Calum,” Alex says. “I’m just asking if you can get a bit of insider knowledge.” 

Calum snaps. “Get someone else to write it, I want nothing to do with it.”

He stomps out the door and passes his and Ashton’s office entirely, marching himself out and down four flights of stairs, not stopping until he’s stood on The Strand, breathing some fresh air, his coffee mug still held in his now white-knuckled grip. 

Unwillingly, he opens his phone and flicks to Twitter. There’s a story about Luke on the discover page and he’s at least in Calum’s recommended trends so surely in plenty of others. The photos are everywhere and the internet has gone nuts. He flicks to Instagram and it’s the same story there, his explore page filled with the same twenty photos from different angles, Luke’s face repeated a hundred times over in tiny squares. The result of being on Luke's page so often has turned the algorithm against him, showing him the photos as many times as possible. He taps over to his DMs and sees the last message he sent to Luke appears read, but not replied to. Calum digs his cigarettes out of his pocket and lights up, sitting on the steps outside the building, scrolling through the photos over and over and wishing that he could see Luke’s expression behind his sunglasses in any of the photos. 

x

Luke’s Instagram goes silent. The almost daily stupid videos have all gone, and he doesn’t even post a single cover, which was almost a consistent weekly appearance before now.

Calum knows it's pathetic to check Luke’s page every day but that doesn’t stop him from doing it (it’s more pathetic to put notifications on for Luke’s posts but it doesn’t stop him doing that either).

“Okay, so I know you’re fine or whatever.” Ashton barges into Calum’s room one Saturday evening. “But I think you could do with going out.”

“I thought you were at Kay’s,” Calum says suspiciously, looking up from his laptop.

“I’m not, I’m here,” Ashton says unnecessarily, spreading his arms out. “And I’m taking you out.”

“I don’t want to go out,” Calum says, aware that he sounds like a child. “I want to lie here in bed and eat pasta out of the saucepan.” 

“Yeah, sorry, not an option,” Ashton says. “Get up, put your jacket on, we’re going out.”

With that, Ashton turns and walks out of the room. Calum sighs and gets up, he knows he’s not getting his own way when Ashton’s in one of these moods, but he makes as little effort as possible, not bothering to shower and just pulling on some jeans and his leather jacket before wandering out to meet Ashton in the living room.

Ashton drags him to one of their friend’s places, and Calum can’t help but grin when he sees a load of their friends already there. Ashton presses some drinks into Calum’s hands and gives him a grin, and Calum shakes his head. Of course Ashton knows what he needs to get him out of his head for a bit, six years of being best friends had made both of them completely attuned to the other. 

Calum gets absolutely hammered. He’s so drunk (and maybe a little high) that he can barely see and he’s talking to some guy on the terrace outside the back of the flat that he’s not sure he can remember the name of. Or if they exchanged names to begin with. He’s fit though (he thinks). Or fit enough. Are they flirting? Possibly. Oh. He’s just asked Calum to come home with him, that’s a good sign he thinks. He nods, his head feeling like it's not attached to his neck properly, it rolling around a little bit too loosely, as Ashton swims into his eye line. Where did he come from? 

“Come on mate, let's go home.” He hears Ashton say as if underwater.

“No, no,” Calum says, and he finds it hard for his mouth to form around the words. “I’m talking to…”

He tails off as he remembers he’s still not sure what the other man’s name is, and feels Ashton’s hand grip around his arm and haul him up next to him.

“Let’s go, buddy,” Ashton murmurs and Calum dutifully follows him, giving a little wave to the mystery man who’s looking at him in confusion as he stumbles after Ashton.

“You’re the best Ashton,” Calum says as he’s forcibly dragged out the front of the ground floor flat and guided down the street towards the tube station.

“And you’re a lovey drunk,” Ashton says, wrapping an arm around Calum’s waist to make sure he doesn’t fall off the curb.

“You know who else is the best?” Calum says as they approach the station and he clumsily digs out his card to tap through.

“Who’s that?” Ashton says, prompting Calum as he tails off, leaning heavily on the bannister of the escalator as they travel down. 

“What?” Calum looks up. Did he say anything? 

“Who’s the best?” Ashton says, and Calum doesn’t know why he’s smirking at him like that.

“Oh. You are,” Calum says as they get to the bottom of the escalator, Calum stumbling slightly as he steps off. “And Luke. Luke is the best too.”

He hears Ashton snigger in his peripherals but it still sounds like he’s a long way away from Calum. But he’s just there actually, next to him.

“Is he?”

“Yes,” Calum says sagely. “Best hair. Best.”

He pauses for a second to take a deep breath and lean his head on the wall of the station.

“Best?” Ashton prompts and Calum starts.

“Oh. Glasses,” he thinks he slurs. “Best glasses. Pretty eyes.”

The train arrives and Ashton pulls him on, dragging him into a seat next to him.

“It kills me that you’re not going to remember any of this tomorrow,” Ashton says and Calum looks at him confusedly.

“I’m not that drunk,” Calum says, frowning. 

“You’re waxing poetic about Luke Hemmings, I think you’re plenty drunk.”

“Luke Hemmings,” Calum says slowly. He sighs. “Luke has a nice voice. And nice shoulders.”

“I’m sure he does, pal,” Ashton pats him on the shoulder.

He thinks they get home without further incident, and Calum falls face first on his bed, falling asleep straight away without turning the light off. Or well he thinks he falls asleep straight away. 

Calum absolutely doesn’t remember sending the DM, if he had done he probably would have been in good enough mind not to send it. 

_You hacve a reallyl nice voice. And face_

**⭑*•⊱** **━━** **✩** **━━** **⊰•*⭑**

Needless to say, Calum does not get a reply to his message, and tries to ignore the way his stomach tries to twist itself inside out with shame every time he sees Luke’s name in his list of people in his DM’s.

The thing is, now that it's nearing the end of April, Calum knows that Luke is due back in London at any time to record or is already here. But with his current radio silence on social media, Calum has no way of knowing if he is or not. And it's putting him on edge, a fact which does not go unnoticed by Ashton.

“Why don’t you just email him and find out when he’s back?” Ashton asks, after watching Calum stare into space for the better part of half an hour one Tuesday afternoon.

“After the last message I sent him?” Calum scoffs. “I’d rather die.”

“That could be arranged,” Ashton murmurs, and Calum throws him a glare. “Look, mate, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you need to get a grip.”

“I know,” Calum groans, dropping his head into his hands. “I’m trying.”

“Not hard enough,” Ashton says. “Let's go out again this weekend.”

“Look how well that ended for me last time,” Calum says, swinging back in his chair and stretching his arms to rest his hands on his head.

“Well maybe don’t get so fucked up?” Ashton says, rolling his eyes. “Kay’s got some kind of event on Friday night for the studio she works at, at the Lockside, come along.”

“I’ll think about it,” Calum says.

“It’ll be good for you, fairly low key but some interesting industry people.”

“Fine, I’ll come,” Calum replies, sensing that this would be another thing Ashton would refuse to let go of. “And I’ll try to look happy about it.”

“That’s the spirit.” 

x

“Don’t freak out,” is how Ashton greets him as Calum enters the bar after giving his name to the doorman.

“Hello to you too,” Calum says, eyeing Ashton warily before brushing past him and heading towards the bar. “Why am I not freaking out?”

Ashton sighs and pauses, and Calum buys himself a beer before turning to look at him.

“Ash.”

“Luke Hemmings is here.”

“You what?” Calum says as his heart feels like it's going to come out of his throat and his stomach drops out the bottom of his feet. 

“I didn’t know,” Ashton says, shrugging his shoulders. “Apparently he’s doing some of his recording at Kay’s studio, so he’s. Well, here.”

“Fuck.” Calum exhales noisily out of his nose. This was absolutely not the way he saw this evening going, and he has half a mind to turn on his heel and walk straight out the door again.

“I honestly had no idea, mate,” Ashton says, resting a hand on Calum’s shoulder.

“It’s fine,” Calum says. “I was probably going to run into him sometime anyway when we run in the same circles. Gotta face my embarrassment at some point.” 

Ashton looks at him carefully, but Calum just raises his eyebrows. There’s a part of him that desperately wants to see Luke again, even if the larger part of his brain wants to curl up and disappear forever.

“Come on then,” Ashton says. “Kay’s over here.”

And because he can’t catch a break, and the universe generally has something against him, Caum doesn’t make it more than five steps across the bar before Luke appears out the door that leads to the bathroom. 

The first thing that he notices is that he looks fucking good. His hair’s started to grow out again and it’s falling back into his eyes behind those fucking glasses, and his skin is slightly tanned from the sun although barely, with a fresh dusting of freckles across his nose, and his beard as long as Calum’s ever seen it. He’s got on an oversized white shirt predictably opened low, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, just with a pair of black jeans and his boots.

Calum supposes that he has one advantage over Luke, and that’s that he at least knew two minutes ago that Luke would be here, and from the look on Luke’s face, he was certainly not expecting to see Calum.

He stops mid-step on his way back across the room and flounders, his hands twitching as his mouth drops open slightly. Calum doesn’t really know what to do either so gives him a stupid fucking wave in greeting, then immediately wishes he’d never been given an arm

“Uh, hi,” Luke stutters out.

“Hello,” Calum responds quietly.

“For fuck’s sake,” Ashton grumbles and stomps off towards KayKay. 

“Do you want to—?” Calum gestures towards the doors. Luke nods stiffly and they head outside.

Calum lights a cigarette and tries not to think about the last time he was stood here with Luke, three months ago.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Luke says quietly, looking at Calum with a small smile.

“Ashton’s girlfriend KayKay works at Sarm Studios,” Calum says hurriedly, explaining his presence. “I’m just tagging along.”

Luke nods and then there’s a lengthy pause before they both start speaking at the same time.

“I’m sorry about—”

“Sorry for—” 

They break off and laugh awkwardly.

“What the fuck are you apologising for?” Luke asks, shaking his head at Calum.

“Are you joking?” Calum says disbelievingly. “That fucking drunk DM I sent you.”

Luke laughs, big and loud and Calum realises with a strange feeling in his stomach that he’s _missed_ that sound. 

“Please don’t apologise for that, it was fantastic,” Luke says with a big smile.

“Well, why are you apologising then?” Calum huffs, taking a drag of his cig.

“Everything?” Luke asks, his smile fading as he leans his elbows on the railing, dropping his head into his hands, and raking his fingers through his hair. “For not replying to you, for dropping off the face of the earth, for those fucking photos with Sara.”

Calum’s fingers flex around his cigarette. “You don’t have to apologise to me for that. That was an invasion of your privacy.”

“No, I do,” Luke says, turning to look at Calum, “or at least I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Luke,” Calum says, looking over the railing to the canal below and blowing smoke into the night air. “What we were doing. It was just, well. It wasn’t anything. You can do what you want.”

He turns to look at Luke who’s blinking at him from behind his glasses with a tight look in his eyes. He nods once, then turns away. Calum immediately wishes that he didn’t just say that, but what else was he meant to say?

“You recording the album here, then?” Calum asks carefully, rolling the cigarette between his fingers.

“Yeah, at Sarm,” Luke says, still looking out over the water.

“How’s it going?” Calum asks.

“Not bad so far,” Luke murmurs. There’s a long pause which Calum desperately tries to think of a way to fill. He can’t think of anything.

Luke stands up straight. “I should get back inside.”

“Okay.” Calum nods.

“Maybe see you around Calum,” Luke says quietly. He pauses for a second and looks like he might say something else, but just shakes his head slightly before slipping back through the doors.

Calum sighs heavily, lights up another fag and muses how that phrase can hold none of the promise it did previously. 

x

Calum doesn’t hear from Luke again.

He kicks himself because he knows it’s his fault, Luke was here, back in the same city, something Calum had been hoping for, and the first conversation they’d had he’d managed to immediately squash any possibility of it going anywhere, he'd thrown a wall up instead of letting Luke talk to him. The photos of Luke had shown him just how much he had started to like him, and in turn, how flimsy everything he’d been pinning his hopes on was. It proved to him how stupid it would be to get involved with someone like Luke, who had a whole life that Calum didn't really know anything about or fit into.

Self-preservation had won out and he’d pushed Luke away before he could say anything to potentially make or break the fragile and stupid thing that they had, and Calum wants to think it’s better this way, but he absolutely knows that would be a lie.

**⭑*•⊱** **━━** **✩** **━━** **⊰•*⭑**

It's a month or so later when Ashton approaches Calum at his desk with a serious look on his face.

“What do you mean ‘Luke’s coming here’,” Calum says, coffee cup halfway towards his mouth. 

“I’ve booked him to do a video for us,” Ashton says evenly.

“Ash…”

“Look Calum,” Ashton says, “he’s an up and coming artist that’s just blown up, sold out an arena tour and has one of the most anticipated debut albums ever. When Alex told me to ask him to come in to film something I couldn’t say no.”

“And he said yes?” Calum says disbelievingly.

“I’m as surprised as you are, mate,” Ashton says, shaking his head. “When Alex asked me to follow up with him I was sure he’d come up with an excuse.”

“But,” Calum starts, “why would he _want_ to come here?” 

Ashton levels a look at him. “I’m not even going to respond to that. You know why.”

“He doesn’t want to see me,” Calum says. “Not after what I said to him.”

“Are you referring to telling him you didn’t care about seeing him with his ex, or that what you two were doing ‘wasn’t anything’?” Ashton asks. “Because both of these things were spectacularly stupid. And also untrue.” 

Calum wonders whether it's possible to drown himself in the inch of coffee he has left. “I know it was stupid.”

“Good,” Ashton says, rolling his eyes. “You could have just told him you like him. Which you do.”

“Yeah, but he _was_ with his ex,” Calum whines.

“Which you didn’t even let him explain to you!” Ashton says, waving his arms before deflating and leaning back in his chair. “You know what, forget it, I’m not fucking going through this with you again.”

Calum just glares at him. He had been through it with Ashton before, and yes, in hindsight he’s a fucking idiot and yes, he should have let Luke explain himself. Blowing Luke off hadn’t made Calum like him any less, so now he was just lying in the fucking shitty bed he’d made for himself. 

“When Luke Hemmings is in this building, promise me you’ll act like an adult? Like the professional journalist you are?” Ashton gives him a pointed look.

“I’ll do my best,” Calum says. 

“That’s all I’m asking.”

x

“Are you going to hover around me all day?” Ashton asks testily.

“I’m helping,” Calum says, pinning the backdrop in place for emphasis.

“You can’t use the excuse that you’re helping with the shoot so you can lurk around when Luke is here.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Calum protests.

“It absolutely is,” Ashton says, pausing setting the camera up to turn to Calum.

Calum just sniffs and continues messing with the backdrop. 

“Look, Calum, any other time I’d just be like have it out with him, talk to him properly,” Ashton says. “But today I could really do without your fucking drama so if you could zip your lip until we’ve done the filming it would really help your best mate out.”

“Who’s that then?” Calum says childishly, glaring at Aston, he knows he’s right, and he knows he should just make himself scarce during the filming. The way he and Luke left it was not really an invitation for further interaction, but for some reason, Calum can absolutely not let this go. (Also he’d really like to even just see Luke, as pathetic as that is.)

Ashton’s videos normally consist of getting the artist to do some menial everyday task as they try to answer general knowledge questions. The premise is to get them to do boring tasks and answer boring questions, but usually, the artists are so terrible at normal things it makes for an extremely entertaining video, and most of Ashton’s views on Youtube are up in the hundred-thousands. So far Ashton’s had people make an omelette, clean a mirror, fold a set of clothes, organise a cutlery drawer and reattach a button to a shirt with varying degrees of success. He’s going to get Luke to build a set of flat-pack shelves, and this is also partly the reason Calum’s hanging around. He wouldn’t miss the sight of indie sad boy Luke Hemmings trying to build shelves for the world.

Calum doesn’t go to greet Luke with Ashton but hangs around in the room they’re using to film pretending to be busy. Ashton had tried several times to get rid of him already but he continues to be uncharacteristically stubborn about sticking around.

Luke looks around the room when he traipses in after Ashton and flashes Calum a surprised but pleased smile when he spots him in the corner. Calum thinks that maybe one day he'll stop feeling like he's been taken out every time he sees Luke, but today is not that day. 

“Hello,” Calum says, giving Luke a smile.

“Hi,” Luke replies slightly haltingly. 

“Fucking hell,” Ashton mumbles under his breath. “Right Luke,” he says more loudly, “could you sit in that chair for me please.”

Luke nods and heads over, seating himself in the chair behind the desk.

“So we’re just going to film a bit of an intro and then we’ll get on with the main bit,” Ashton says, fiddling with the camera.

“Cool,” Luke says, eyes flicking to Calum slightly before focusing on Ashton and the camera. 

They get through the intro without incident, Calum staying quiet in favour of just watching Luke. Ashton slides a box onto the table Luke’s sat at once he's happy with what they've got so far.

“So what we want you to do is build that set of shelves,” Ashton says as he starts the camera again.

“Oh, ace!” Luke says. 

“Ace?” Ashton asks from behind the camera.

“Oh yeah, was gonna be a tradie before this music business,” Luke says. “Would have put my flannel on if I’d known, at least I didn’t shave my beard off.”

Ashton frowns slightly confusedly at Luke as Calum laughs quietly. Ashton hadn’t had the privilege of experiencing Luke Hemmings specific brand of unexpected humour yet and he’d been surprisingly tame during the introduction. 

“Where are my tools then?” Luke flashes Calum a small grin when he hears him snigger. 

“Calum, be quiet please,” Ashton says.

Calum mimes zipping his lips and salutes. 

Luke rolls his sleeves up and Calum makes an approving noise without realising he’s doing it as Luke’s forearms appear. Ashton turns to throw him daggers but Luke looks immeasurably pleased.

It seems that as soon as it becomes obvious that Calum is still trying to flirt with Luke, Luke returns it ten-fold. He spends the next ten minutes making as many innuendos as possible, Calum sniggering and making lewd gestures at him from behind Ashton, and Ashton has to stop filming several times as Luke breaks down in laughter and can’t speak to answer the questions. Luke finally manages to build the majority of the shelving unit after the fourth time Ashton pleads with him to focus. 

“Just need to really nail this one with my hammer,” Luke says, tapping at a tac. “Could you repeat the question?”

Calum coughs loudly and wiggles his eyebrows at Luke who’s looking at him again. 

“Right, that’s it,” Ashton snaps as he pauses the camera again. “Calum, leave, please.

“What?!” Calum exclaims. “I’m not doing anything!”

“You’re distracting the talent,” Ashton says stiffly.

“That’s not my fault,” Calum says, smirking at Luke who’s gone red with trying to repress his giggles and is hiding behind the shelves that are almost built in front of him. “If anything he’s distracting me.”

“Get out,” Ashton says. “You’re a menace.”

Calum shrugs, winks at Luke, and leaves the room. He’s halfway back up the stairs towards their office when he hears quick footsteps behind him.

“Calum,” Luke’s voice rings out in the echoey stairwell.

Calum turns around to see Luke, slightly out of breath and chewing his lip nervously. 

“Do you want to grab some lunch after this?” Luke asks in a rush. “So we can talk?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Calum says with a smile, feeling his chest loosen just a little bit.

“Awesome,” Luke says, his face stretching into one of his trademark sunny smiles, tongue between teeth and all.

“Half-one out the front?” Calum asks, unable to stop his own grin.

“Perfect,” Luke says, smiling at him for another second before starting slightly. “Oh fuck, I have to get back before Ashton murders us both.”

Calum laughs as Luke trots back down the stairs. “See you later, Luke!”

x

They head to a tiny cafe just around the corner from Calum's work that Calum knows is always incredibly quiet, hidden down a side street. Calum buys Luke a green tea with his ham and cheese toastie without having to ask, and Luke tries to repress his smirk. They sit at a table in the corner, knocking knees. 

“The thing with those photos—” Luke starts, picking at his toastie. 

“Luke,” Calum interrupts, “I meant it when I said that was an invasion of your privacy, honestly, you shouldn’t have to explain it.”

“But I do,” Luke says, taking a deep breath and looking at Calum. “I bumped into Sara for the first time in over two years or something ridiculous like that, hadn’t seen her face since I moved to London, on that beach that morning.”

Calum takes a drink from his coffee for something to do with his hands, not wanting to look like he’s staring at Luke too intently.

“She was telling me that she’s engaged, and she’s _pregnant_ ,” Luke says with a laugh, “and I was telling her that I think I like men exclusively now.”

He pauses to give Calum a pointed look. “Those photos were taken as she was shrieking with laughter at what the two of us had become.”

“I see,” Calum says, his mind racing to process all this new information.

“Do you?” Luke asks. Calum’s not sure how to respond, he feels like a fucking idiot for not letting Luke talk to him about it before.

“I don’t even know why the paps were there,” Luke continues. “I’m not famous enough for them to be following, no one cares over there, someone must have tipped them off or some shit.”

“I’m so sorry they ended up everywhere,” Calum says honestly.

“God, it was a fucking nightmare,” Luke says, scratching his fingers through his beard. “I forget that I have to be careful about what I do, I forget that people actually recognise this face. 

“Alex asked me to write something about it,” Calum says.

Luke pulls a disgusted face. “Fuck, that’s horrible.”

“You’re telling me,” Calum says, rolling his eyes. “I told him to piss off.”

“Thanks, Cal,” Luke says quietly and Calum’s chest expands slightly at the sound of the nickname dropping out of Luke’s lips. 

“I’m sorry for cutting you off the other night,” Calum mumbles. “But I wish you’d just told me at the time.”

“I wanted to,” Luke says, running his finger around the top of his mug, “but my management told me to delete my Instagram app and lay low for a bit. Said my stupid videos were not going to help the gossip situation.”

“But you could have spoken to me,” Calum says before he can stop himself.

“Yeah, but what the fuck were we actually doing?” Luke says, shaking his head and grinning. “I had no idea what was going on in your head, what was I gonna say to the guy I’ve been flirting with over email; ‘hey so we’ve never broached the topic of us but you might see some photos of me and my ex and I want you to know that it’s not what you think’? It sounded fucking ridiculous every time I typed something out.” 

Calum snorts. “Well, that would have been better than nothing.”

“Fuck off I’m not taking all the blame here,” Luke says, punching Calum in the shoulder. “You told me not two weeks ago that we weren’t anything. Which proved me right.”

Calum coughs. “So maybe we both did some stupid shit?”

“We’re fucking terrible at communicating,” Luke says, shaking his head. Calum looks at him, head ducked and curls falling in his eyes, a shy smile on his lips and fiddling with the edge of his mug still, and makes a decision to fuck self-preservation. It might be worth it for Luke Hemmings.

“Well, let’s get better at it,” Calum says. He takes a deep breath. “Luke, do you wanna go out sometime? With me?”

Luke looks back up at him with a glint in his eyes. “For full transparency; in a date kind of way?”

Calum reaches over to pull Luke’s hand into his own underneath the table, running his fingers around Luke’s rings and brushing his thumb over the soft skin of Luke’s wrist. “For full transparency; absolutely a date kind of way.” 

**⭑*•⊱** **━━** **✩** **━━** **⊰•*⭑**

“I can’t believe you’re finally going to fuck Luke Hemmings,” Ashton says solemnly as he lies on Calum’s bed, watching Calum dither over what to wear.

“I’m not going to fuck him yet,” Calum says. “It’s our first date.”

“We’ll see,” Ashton says, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’ve been wanting to sleep with this man for over five months now, I can’t see you being restrained.”

“Fuck off.” Calum throws a balled up T-shirt in Ashton’s direction. “What are you even doing in here?”

“I’m helping my best friend decide what to wear before he goes to fuck the newest music sensation,” Ashton says, grinning.

“Get out of my room,” Calum says. “Now.”

“Fine,” Ashton says. “But you should wear the blue jeans, your thighs look amazing in them.”

Calum raises his eyebrows at Ashton.

“No homo,” Ashton adds as he leaves the room.

“There we go,” Calum says, rolling his eyes. 

He puts on his ripped blue jeans anyway. Ashton’s fucking annoying, but he’s not wrong. 

x

It doesn’t really matter what he’s wearing anyway, he thinks, as Luke slides into the seat opposite him, he’s sure he looks like a toe next to Luke anyway. His beard is trimmed back to neat, barely-there scruff again but his hair’s still long. His shirt tonight is bottle green with a leather biker jacket over the top, making his shoulders look as broad as Calum’s ever seen them.

“Your beard is almost gone,” Calum says by way of greeting.

“Thought I’d make an effort to neaten up for the occasion,” Luke responds, shrugging out of his jacket, and Calum’s eyes follow the way Luke’s shirt strains across his chest as he does so.

“I like the beard,” Calum says.

“Do you now?” Luke says, raising his eyebrows. He takes a sip of the drink Calum’s already bought for him, nodding in satisfaction.

“Mm, I’ve been thinking a lot about that beard,” Calum says, slowly taking a drink from his own glass.

“Do tell,” Luke says, smirking.

“Maybe later,” Calum says with a grin. Maybe Ashton had a point. 

“How was your day?” Luke asks. 

“Oh you know, wrote some bullshit about a new indie singer, annoyed Ashton, drank coffee,” Calum says.

“The usual then,” Luke says, biting his lip.

“What about you?” Calum asks. “Your life is much more exciting than mine Mr Famous.”

Luke shakes his head and takes another drink. “Let’s see,” he says slowly, “I drank tea, ordered Chinese food for lunch and finished recording an album.” 

“Finished?” Calum asks, pausing as he brings his glass to his mouth. “You’re done?!” 

“I’m done,” Luke says with a grin taking over his face. “Still some bits to do and some instrumentals to fill, but for the most part, yeah.”

“What the fuck, why didn’t you say anything?” Calum says. “Why are you even here, shouldn’t you be going and getting fucked up with your team?”

“I had plans,” Luke says, smiling coyly at Calum. “I wasn’t going to cancel after all the fucking effort it took to get us here.”

“Yeah but,” Calum pauses, letting Luke’s words wash over him, and the idea that Luke wanted to see Calum more than go and celebrate finishing his album, “your debut album Luke, you have to celebrate.”

“I am celebrating,” Luke says, lifting his drink and raising an eyebrow at Calum. “If you don’t mind celebrating with me.”

Calum lifts his drink and clinks it against Luke’s glass, meeting Luke’s eyes before they both down the rest of their drinks.

“Oh we’re celebrating alright,” Calum says, sliding out of his seat. “I’m going to get us some celebratory tequilas.”

“A man after my own heart,” Luke says and Calum laughs. He sees Luke give him a long look up and down as he stands up and raises his eyebrows questioningly at Luke.

“Nice jeans,” Luke says, resting his chin in his hand and fixing Calum with a look. Calum laughs and turns around to head to the bar. 

They spend the rest of the evening getting progressively drunker, flirting outrageously and laughing so loud Calum knows they’re being a nuisance in the bar they’re at. Spending time with Luke was exactly as easy as it always had been in their snatched minutes over the last few months, a wicked sense of humour playing off Calum’s perfectly and the kind of electric energy that cracks between them when their eyes meet. 

Now Luke’s in front of him and he’s allowed to, he can’t help but want to touch, so he does. He hooks his ankle around Luke’s stretched out leg under the table and reaches out to brush his fingers over Luke’s hand when it’s fiddling with his glass. He’s rewarded with smirks and long looks under Luke’s eyelashes as he chews on his lip, and if Calum’s honest, he’s stopped hearing exactly what Luke is saying, choosing instead to just watch the way his lips wrap around the words.

Luke stops speaking to look at Calum and quirks his lips into a grin. “You okay there?”

“Mm, I was just thinking something,” Calum says, running the pads of his fingers over Luke’s knuckles.

“Oh yeah?” Luke says softly. “What’s that?”

“I know another way we could celebrate,” Calum says. 

“Is that so?”

“I think so, want to come with me?” 

“Maybe.”

Calum tugs him up out of his seat and they go to leave the bar, Luke slightly stumbling into Calum’s back as they walk, dropping his head onto Calum’s shoulder and giggling. Calum makes to pull his hand away when they get to the door and Luke pouts. 

“You know what happened last time you held hands with someone in public,” Calum says pointedly.

“No one cares about me enough,” Luke says, still gripping Calum’s hand tightly.

“I don’t think your management would thank me,” Calum says, smiling at Luke

“Yeah well, maybe I don’t mind having photos taken with you.”

Calum grins. “You say that because we’ve drunk half a bottle of tequila, babe.”

“Fine, fine,” Luke says grumpily, disentangling his fingers. Calum laughs and goes to leave before he feels a hand slide underneath his shirt and around his hip, Luke crowding up behind him. He feels Luke lean in towards his ear. 

“When we get to yours I’ll do what I want with my hands,” he murmurs before walking past Calum without looking back at him. Calum pulls his cigarettes out before he’s even left the bar. 

By the time they finally get back to Calum’s flat (Luke tells Calum to fuck off when he starts heading towards the tube station and gets out his phone to order an Uber), Calum thinks he’s going to go insane if he doesn’t get his hands on Luke in the next five seconds.

He drags him inside, shushing him as he giggles again trying to get his boots off and pulls him into his room, flicking a lamp on and shrugging off his jacket. He presses Luke back up against his door and takes a second just to look at him, eyes sparkling in the low light, lips pulled up into a grin, slightly breathless and so fucking beautiful it almost hurts to look at him. Calum thinks he deserves to know as much.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Calum says into the inch of space between their faces.

Luke blushes, and Calum catalogues the way the pink spreads across the apples of his cheeks and down his neck. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Calum says, running his hands up Luke’s arms, curling one around the back of his head, threading his fingers into his hair.

“Hurry up then,” Luke says, and in typical Luke fashion, he takes Calum by surprise, leaning in and catching his lips on Calum’s.

Calum almost sighs into Luke’s mouth, his lips soft and tequila hinted breath on his tongue, the rough drag of his stubble on his face as Calum slides his hand around to gently hold Luke’s jaw in his hand, the kiss softer and sweeter than the night-long lead up to it would have ever indicated.

Luke makes a happy little noise in the back of his throat and Calum presses closer, slowly pulling Luke’s bottom lip into his mouth and trapping it between his lower teeth before pulling away slightly.

“Do you know how many times I watched you bite your fucking lip,” Calum says lowly. “I’ve been waiting to do that forever.”

Luke looks at him with eyes that have gone dark, loops his fingers into Calum’s belt hoops and pulls him back against him. He presses his mouth back against Calum’s instead of responding, running his tongue along Calum’s lip before licking into his mouth and kissing him hard. Calum pulls Luke’s shirt out of where it's tucked into his jeans so he can get his hands on Luke’s skin, skimming his hands over his hips and pressing his thumbs into his hip bones. Luke’s hands come up to grip Calum’s shoulders.

“So what were you going to tell me about my beard?” Luke says with a grin as he kisses down Calum’s neck and licks at the hollow of his throat.

Calum groans and starts pulling him towards the bed.

x

Calum wakes up with a face full of blonde hair and an unreasonably broad chest slumped heavily across his own. He’s also got a fucking banging headache. He groans slightly and runs his hands over Luke’s back as he feels him stir on his chest.

“It feels like something died in my mouth,” Luke murmurs into his skin. “How much tequila did you buy me?”

Calum snorts, then regrets it as it makes his head hurt even more. “You weren’t complaining about it last night.”

“I feel like I’ve been run over by a bus,” Luke groans.

“You’re welcome,” Calum says, and Luke sniggers.

Calum hears movement from down the corridor and really hopes Ashton might decide to be a decent human being for once on this Saturday morning.

“I’m coming in!” Ashton announces as he does just that, opening Calum’s door and walking in. That’ll be a no then. 

“Oh, fucking hell!” Calum swears, adjusting the duvet to make sure he and Luke are covered as Luke squeaks and burrows his head into Calum’s chest. “Fuck _off_ , Ashton.”

“Well well well,” Ashton says smugly, sipping on his coffee and surveying the scene. “Good morning, Calum, Luke.”

“Hi, Ashton,” Luke says into Calum’s sternum. 

“Get the fuck out,” Calum groans, throwing a pillow in the direction of the door. He misses.

“What happened to ‘it’s only our first date’ then?” Ashton smirks.

“I will. Kill you” Calum grits out.

Ashton raises his hands in surrender and leaves again with a grin on his face. 

“Weren’t going to fuck me on the first date then?” Luke says, looking up from Calum’s chest with a glittering look in his eyes. “Not got much willpower, have you Calum?”

“Are you complaining?” Calum asks, siding his arms around Luke and pulling him fully on top of him. 

Luke laughs and kisses the centre of Calum’s chest. “Not at all, babe.” 

**⭑*•⊱** **━━** _6 months later_ **━━** **⊰•*⭑**

Calum comes back into the bedroom from showering, stepping over all of Luke’s half-packed suitcases. He’s leaving for tour in a few days and most of his stuff is at Calum’s so he’s had to pack from here, even though technically he still lives with Michael in their flat. 

Calum sees Luke on the bed but he’s shifted down to the middle, still just in his boxers with Duke curled up in his arms, head tucked into the crook of Luke’s elbow. He watches them fondly. Luke looks up to catch Calum’s eye before nuzzling his nose into the fur on Duke’s head.

“When we get to go to Australia we’re bringing Piggy back with us,” Calum says, coming towards Luke and scratching Duke’s head before reaching up and brushing a hand through Luke’s curls too.

“I miss her,” Luke says into Duke’s head. “And I’ll miss Duke too.” 

“I know, love,” Calum says. “Now I’m here though she has somewhere to be, even when you’re off touring the world.”

“Not if you come with me,” Luke says pointedly. 

Against his better judgement (he’s absolutely going to be late for work), Calum gets back on the bed, shuffling up close behind Luke. He pulls Luke and Duke between his legs, arms wrapping around them both, sliding his hands down Luke’s bare arms and slipping his fingers into the spaces between Luke’s as he clutches onto Duke. He presses himself along Luke’s back and rests his chin on his shoulder. 

“You know I can’t leave right now,” Calum murmurs into Luke’s ear. “Alex would kill me.”

Luke huffs.

“Don’t be a princess,” Calum admonishes but he can’t help but smile. “I’ll come and see you as often as possible, you think I’m turning down a free stay in Rome?”

“You’re only with me because of my fame,” Luke says, pouting.

“Not just your fame,” Calum says seriously. “I’m with you for your body too.”

Luke makes an outraged noise and elbows Calum as best he can with an armful of sleeping dog.

“I changed my mind, I don’t want you to come with me anymore,” Luke says.

“No take-backs,” Calum says, squeezing Luke tighter in his arms and kissing along his neck. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Fine,” Luke relents, tipping his head to the side to give Calum more room.

“I’ve got to go to work,” Calum says as he runs his lips over the soft skin behind Luke’s ear.

“Not allowed,” Luke says, sinking back further into Calum’s arms. 

“Are you going to explain to Alex why I’m late every time you stay here?” 

“Maybe I will,” Luke says. “And while I’m there I’m going to talk to him about the assignments you’re given whilst I’m on tour.”

“Are you now?” Calum asks.

“I know what you’re like,” Luke says. “I’m going to tell him that you’re not allowed to interview any other sad indie boys while I’m gone.”

Calum laughs and presses his face against Luke’s skin, nosing at the top vertebrae of his spine and inhaling the sweet scent of a sleep-warm Luke. He kisses along his back, feather-light and speaks the words across his skin.

“None of them would be like you.”

**⭑*•⊱** **━━** **✩** **━━** **⊰•*⭑**

_there's no one else like you_

_now my mind is set_

_hold my cigarette_

_'cause I'm not leaving here without you_

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [tumblr](https://kaleidoscopeminds.tumblr.com/) i love to chat!!!!


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